Chapter 38 Pyrotechnics
THIRTY-EIGHT
Pyrotechnics
RYKER
“Germany!” Ryker howled. “You want me to go to fucking Germany?” His mouth gaped at the absurdity of the idea. “This is supposed to be a local gig.”
Forest laughed. “Funny, but I was expecting that reaction. You should try to be less predictable.”
“Predictable, my ass. Nobody said anything about leaving the deployment theater.”
“I can’t believe you don’t want to get out of here.”
Leaving Afghanistan meant leaving Tia behind. Rock-and-roll dreams aside, he had priorities. Top on that list was the woman who not only made his dick hard, but had also somehow managed to make his heart ache.
“I’m not leaving.” He emphasized his words with a stomp of his boot.
Forest’s eyes cut down to the ground, and a smirk bounced on his lips. “You’re doing whatever your orders say, Sergeant.” Forest was having too much fun with this exchange. The asshole cracked a huge grin. “That includes going to England.”
“What the fucking fuck? England, too?” This was madness and not what he’d agreed to.
Unfortunately, Forest had one thing right. He’d go wherever his orders dictated. In the military, the one thing a person didn’t own was the right to decide their fate.
“We leave tonight,” Forest said, striding away. “Right after the concert.”
Ryker sputtered curses to an empty stage. This was exactly the kind of shit he didn’t need.
He had a concert to play and needed to be in the right headspace. No mistakes. That was his greatest fear—getting up on that stage and looking like an ass. Worse, making the guys look like dicks for placing their trust in an amateur.
That had been the whole reason for getting here early. He needed a moment to walk the stage before the concert. Instead, he had run into Forest and shitty news.
Shitty?
The fact that he was complaining about being forced to travel with Angel Fire was not lost on him. He still couldn’t believe he was playing with one of the most popular bands of all time. It should’ve been the best thing to happen to him, except, somewhere along the line, he’d lost Tia.
Focus!
A glance out the open hangar doors revealed a cloudless sky and the sun sinking below the horizon.
It was the end to another day. Dusk blanketed the base as the sun disappeared.
It would be dark soon. Tia was out there, vulnerable and at risk.
He hated not being with her, but he had to put his thoughts of her to the side.
It was time to get his shit together and play one of the best damn sets of his life.
Less than an hour later, the stage was set.
Giant speakers occupied the four corners of the stage, ready to belt out sound.
The lights were ready and pyrotechnics, too.
People had gathered, pouring in for another epic night of raw, unhinged music.
As more and more arrived, the large hangar felt smaller and smaller.
Then, the entire world exploded with the arrival of the band.
The crowd surged back and forth as Angel Fire rocked it onstage.
Those up front packed in tight, moving forward and back as one.
They were like wild waves of the ocean, moving with a chaotic beauty.
They pushed and shoved the others around, yet there were no angry shouts.
Everything was done as a group, crazy fans who’d gathered to listen to a night of rock and roll.
They all looked for an up-front and personal glimpse of their favorite star.
Ryker was right beside the men of Angel Fire. Even Bent was there. Released on pass from the hospital, he hung out backstage. His shattered arm had been placed in a cast.
The eager anticipation of the fans greeted them, and the band hit the ground running with a crescendo of noise and flash of lights.
The level of sound was astronomical. The decibels were on the threshold of pain, but nobody cared.
Spike strode onstage with the beginning riffs of the opening beats of “Heart’s Insanity.
” They played a mix of old and new. Ryker knew every song by heart and played more by ear and heart than anything else.
Bash was cool as shit on the drums, his beat tight and snappy with a blend of awesome and holy fuck.
Noodles had the keyboards flying, pelting out note after vicious note.
Ryker hit the bass riff like a machine gun, weaving through the songs as he followed Spike’s lead on guitar.
In the center of it all, Ash strutted his stuff, pouring out pure emotion and strength with vocal adrenaline.
Although hard edges dominated Angel Fire’s signature sound, they melded in sensuous, seductive melodies throughout. They were raw, raucous, and rebellious while being soulful, sinful, and hot as fuck. Their music ripped out the hearts of their fans and tore at their guts.
Music roared through the hangar, and the crowd went crazy for more.
Every time the bass drum was struck, Ryker’s chest vibrated from the percussive blast. Even his teeth chattered.
The floor beneath his feet moved to the beat of the song, and each sound passed through his body like a pulse of electricity.
In sensory overload, his entire body was stimulated to capacity.
As the concert reached its climax, Angel Fire led with their greatest hits.
Ash had the crowd eating out of the palms of his hands, feeding off his vocal range.
One song moved seamlessly into the next while the crowd kept in synch with the band, surging back and forth as a mass of holy fuck.
The stage was a constant flurry of excitement as Ash and Spike worked the stage with him.
Plenty of pyrotechnics kept spots dancing in his eyes, but he didn’t need his sight to feel the music pouring through his body and into the bass guitar.
Through the rush of it all, his mind wandered to Tia and what hell she must be going through. Every mission sucked. He had faith in her abilities, and her skills were top notch, but he hated not being with her and would never forgive himself if things went south for her and the team.
With a bang, the largest pyrotechnics display went off. He shuddered with most of those in the crowd. For people who lived under the very real threat of mortar attack, loud explosions during a concert might not be the best idea. He made a note to speak with Smiley about it after the show.